


The Nurse's Apprentice

by Irisen



Series: The Hero, The Scholar, The Healer [1]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Canon, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Hogwarts, Friendship, Gen, Gen Work, Healer!Ron, Healing, Hogwarts Era, Humor, Magic, Male-Female Friendship, Not Proofread, POV Ron Weasley, Ron Weasley-centric, Ron and Hermione being besties, because i am an idiot, hardcore friendship
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-06
Updated: 2021-02-19
Packaged: 2021-03-18 14:48:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 10,252
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29245335
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Irisen/pseuds/Irisen
Summary: The story of Ronald Weasley, a Gryffindor boy who, pushed by circumstances and a danger-magnet of a best friend, finds in himself a passion for healing magic, snark, and, most unlikely of all, studying.
Relationships: Ginny Weasley & Ron Weasley, Harry Potter & Ron Weasley, Hermione Granger & Harry Potter & Ron Weasley, Hermione Granger & Ron Weasley, Percy Weasley & Ron Weasley, Poppy Pomfrey & Ron Weasley, Ron Weasley & Weasley Family
Series: The Hero, The Scholar, The Healer [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2147415
Comments: 33
Kudos: 77





	1. Harry Worry

Ron wakes up in the infirmary, feeling like his whole body has just been crushed by an especially clumsy troll. Which it almost did, not too long ago, so he knows what he's talking about. Despite feeling worse than a Quidditch player after being harassed by bludgers for a whole match (which had previously happened to some unlucky slytherins his brothers didn't take a liking to), his injuries are not severe enough that Mrs Pomfrey can't put him back on his feet in less than a night and a morning under her care. With Harry still unconscious, and likely to remain so for a few more days, the Headmaster warns them, he doesn't really feel in the mood to chit chat with the nurse and so, he watches silently as she runs the tip of her wand over his left arm, then his right, a light glow the only sign that she's even using any magic.

Unlike most of the teachers and students he's seen casting spells, Mrs Pomfrey doesn't seem to need to use her voice to successfully use magic. Sure, Ron has heard of silent spells from Bill and Charlie but he has never had the occasion to see it so close before. And in such an impressive way too. Just by moving her wand, without even a word, Mrs Pomfrey can close a gash the length of his whole arm. She can even mend broken bones, as he has witnessed himself earlier, when she put his ankle back into place, after he fell on it during the chess game.

After being elbowed rather intensely by Hermione when he forgets to thank the woman, too focused on trying to see Harry's face over the mountain of flowers and chocolate that has started to form around his bed, he leaves the infirmary, flexing his wrist over and over, not quite believing that the pain, that had felt so bad a few hours ago, is now completely gone.

"I can't believe you Ron!" Hermione mutters, glowering at him.

"What?" He protests, "I was trying to see Harry."

His friend's expression loses a bit of its severity, an understanding look reaching the girl's eyes. She, too, is worried for their best friend. He is, after all, the one that brought them together in the first place. He's very dear to the both of them, the first best friend either one of them has ever had. Ron knows how she feels. He'll never tell her, but he heard her cry last night, when she thought everyone in the infirmary was asleep.

He, too, wants to cry.

But they have to keep it together. They're Gryffindors now, and lions are brave. So Ron will be brave. And he knows Hermione will be too. For Harry.

"I hope he's going to be alright." The girl mutters, as they start getting close to the Great Hall, where the sounds of children and teenagers eating and chatting can be heard, lunch hour as usual. "Mrs Pomfrey is one of the best nurses Hogwarts has ever had, you know?"

Ron does not, in fact, know, but he's not surprised his friend does. For some reason, Hermione has a love for all knowledge that might appear to be insignificant, or even downright boring to others. This one nugget of knowledge, however, does feel him with some peace of mind. If Hermione, the girl who knows everything, says that Mrs Pomfrey is one of the best nurses in the history of the school, then that must be true and, from what he's seen of her magical prowess, he fully believes it.

They're about to step into the Great Hall when an urge comes over him, some sort of strange fear that tightens his throat and curls in his chest. His hand reaches out and he grabs Hermione's arm, stopping her in her tracks. She looks back at him, a confused look on her face.

"I don't really feel like eating right now," he tells her. "Want to go outside instead?"

She looks disturbed at that suggestion.

"Outside? Are we even allowed to skip lunch?" the ever serious girl shoots at glance at the teachers' table. Nobody has noticed them yet but once they do, with how fast the news of their little adventure spread, they will no doubt be the center of attention and, usually, it would make Ron happy but this time...

This time Harry isn't here. And it feels wrong to get all of the attention if his best friend isn't there to share it with him.

"Seriously, Hermione," He sighed, "We just broke into the forbidden floor and fought You-Know-Who. This is just skipping lunch."

He doesn't expect her to agree with him, but, once again, she surprises him by frowning then slowly nodding. She scampers back into the hallway, dragging him with her. He frees his arm from her grasp and, together, they hurry on the steps that lead outside. The weather is fair and warm, Ron almost feels like taking off his robes, with how hot it's getting, but even he knows better than to take off his school uniform somewhere Filch could see him.

There are some students outside, older ones especially. A lot of sixth years and fourth years by the lake, eating on towels on the grass and some brave ones dipping their toes in the water. They hear them laugh and the sound feels so strange to Ron. Harry is lying in the Hospital Wing right now and everyone else is having a grand old time, enjoying the sun and the food. It's so hot out but he feels like shivering.

"Ron," Hermione whispers at him, even though there's no one near them, this close to the castle, still on the paved paths that leads down into the park, gardens and lake. "I have an idea."

"What are you whispering for?" He complains, "There's no one around!"

She whacks him on the shoulder and he frowns at her but, before he can sulk more about it, she grabs his wrist and tugs him away from the path, into the grass that borders the castle.

"Over there," she says, pointing at a window, two good meters above the ground. "This is the Hospital Wing."

Ron's eyes go wide. No way.

"No way!" He tells her. "Do you want to... break in?"

She shakes her head.

"Not necessarily break in but, since we're not allowed in outside of visitation hours-"

"Visitation what?"

She whacks him again and, this time, he dodges.

"You need to pay more attention, Ron," she chastises him, "Mrs Pomfrey told us we can come see Harry after classes."

"Oh? Well, that's grand! What are we doing here then?"

His friend rolls her eyes, much more dramatic than he's used to her being, and she insistantly points at the window.

"I don't know about you, _Ronald_ , but _I_ want to check on my friend."

Understanding fills his mind. His mouth opens in a small "o" and he finds himself vigorously nodding his head. He looks up at the window, too high for him to reach it, even if he jumped, but he is a boy of many siblings and he has been used as a device to grab forbidden items enough to know what to do in this situation. Sure, he's never actually been on the other side of the maneuver but, since he somewhat knows what he's doing, it should be fine, right?

"Oi Hermione," he calls her, "climb on my shoulders"

He kneels down in front of her, as she frowns, arms crossed.

"Even if I sat on your shoulders, I wouldn't be tall enough for it to work, no I was thinking of a _Leviosa_."

"Ah no!" Ron jumps to his feet. "No way! You're not Leviosa'ing me."

"Why not? I'm very good at it, I'll have you know, mister!"

"I don't doubt that, and I also don't doubt that you're so good at it I'd be sent flying by the castle's roof, and then what? If McGonagall sees me flying by her office like a balloon we're done, detentions for the whole month."

Hermione is so disturbed at the idea of getting sent to detention that she doesn't comment on the fact that there's barely a week of school left. Even then, knowing their Head of House, she would probably find a way to have them carry out their detentions at home, if she thought it was a sufficient punishment.

Happy to have shut the know-it-all up, Ron kneels again, motioning for the girl to get close.

"Now, don't sit on my shoulders," he tells her. "Stand on them. You'll see, it's not that hard."

"What? Standing on your shoulders? I'm sorry Ron but what?"

"Hey, do you want to see Harry or not?"

There's about half a minute of sullen silence from her before she gives in and, with a very uncertain expression, Hermione starts trying to climb on his shoulders. The first try is not the right, and they end up eating grass very quickly. The second is not any better, neither is the third, or the fourth...

By the tenth try, Hermione manages to hoist herself up to the window. Left on the ground, Ron tries to jump to look into the Hospital Wing with her but to no avail, the window is too high for him. The girl, however, appears to be peering intently inside, her eyes resting on a fixed spot.

"I can see him," she tells him. "Ron, I can see Harry!"

"Yes! How does he look?"

"Well... he looks like he's sleeping. He's very white and- oh no! Ron!"

"What? Is Harry alright? Is he bleeding?"

Hermione's face turns as white as a piece of chalk, she tries to back away from the window but quickly remembers where she is and scampers back up the window sill. Her eyes are wide and scared, he's never seen her that way, not even when they were facing a troll, or a giant plant, or all the terrible things they had seen this year.

"Mrs Pomfrey saw me Ron!" She yelps, on the verge of tears. "We're going to get expelled."

He blinks. 

"You scared me!" He hisses at her, "I thought it was serious!"

Hermione shakes her head vehemently. "You don't understand!" She lets out, in a very tight, clipped tone. "She's coming this way. I've got to jump."

"What? No! Don't jump!" 

Panicking, Ron takes out his wand, thinking of a spell, any spell that could get them out of this situation but, dumbed down by stress, the only spell he can think about is _Lumos_. He knows it's not the only one he knows but he just can't-

"I'm jumping!"

He doesn't have a second to protest before Hermione jumps from the window, straight unto him, no doubt expecting him to catch her. But Ron, being one of the youngest siblings himself, has never had to catch anyone. He has a split second to react and, in that time, he lets his wand drop to the ground and reaches out his arms. He's too slow, though, and Hermione's legs slip past his grasp. One of her feet burries itself in his stomach and the other one strikes his shoulder. The girl tumbles over him and rolls down the hil for a couple meters while he crumbles to the floor, moaning. This is not one of their finest moments.

"Quick Ron!" Hermione yells at him. "We've got to run!"

The girl grabs his shoulder and hoists him up just as the Hospital Wing's window opens. A very sour and annoyed Mrs Pomfrey glances at them and Ron does the first thing that comes to his mind, he grabs his fallen wand and jumps back up.

" _Lumos_ !" He yelps, sending a ray of bright, unnatural light straight into the woman's eyes. The shine is so bright that, even in the middle of the day, the witch has to turn away for a second, a second they use to jump up and run down the hill, towards the lake and away from the Hospital Wing. They run so fast that they almost fall over multiple times, sliding and rolling down the grass, staining the knee of their pants. They stop at the bottom to catch their breath before they take off again, towards the park, as far away from the infirmary as they can.

"Do you think she recognised us?" Ron gasps, between two coughs, completely out of breath.

Hermione shakes her head, sweat running down her face. After running so fast, their robes are even more annoying than they usually are. Without hesitation, Ron shrugs off his gryffindor robes and stuffs it into his bag. He doesn't really feel like going back to class anyways. But it's not like Hermione is going to skip it with him. She's not like Harry, he thinks, she's so serious. Maybe it's because she's a girl.

Ginny is a girl too, he realises, and she doesn't act like Hermione. Maybe Hermione is just that way, and it has nothing to do with her being a girl at all.

Or maybe it does. Girls are weird.

"I don't know if she did. You shone a light in her face!"

She sounds so astonished that Ron can't help but laugh. In answer, she frowns at him, looking supremely annoyed at his behavior.

"Not any light, a _Lumos_." He corrects her.

"Yes. A _Lumos_. You are so going to detention."

He shrugs, pushes her slightly, forgetting for a second that she's a girl and that you're not supposed to push girls around, just other boys. But Hermione doesn't seem to mind, and neither does Ginny when he does it at home so maybe it's just, once again, a matter of who it is you do it to.

"You were the one climbing the wall," he reminds her, "You're going to detention too!"

She looks positively defeated, her shoulders sagging at that. This girl is so weird. What does she have against detentions? Sure they're boring but they're not the worst thing ever. Now, if he was punished to a whole day of sitting in History of Magic then yes, he would feel bad but even then, he'd gladly go scrub bedpans in the Hospital Wing, at least he would be close to Harry. Maybe he could even be here when his friend wakes up.

"Hey come on," he tries to comfort her, "it's not that bad. If we get detention in the Hospital Wing we can go see Harry."

"Was that your plan all along?" She glowers, still sweating from the heat, obviously too stubborn to take off her robes.

He shrugs. "I'm not against it you know. At least we'd get to see him instead of being told to wait."

Annoyed, he kicks at the grass. He wishes they didn't have to be kept away from their friend. What right does Dumbledore even have to stop them from being with Harry? All these adults, they don't know what the three of them have gone through together. Harry will be stronger with them by his side, Ron just knows it. Hermione doesn't seem to disagree with him either, as she doesnt snark back at him with one of her know-it-all remarks, choosing to cross her arms and lower her head instead. She looks like she's about to cry.

Awkwardly, Ron clenches his hand into a fist and softly bump her shoulder, trying to cheer her up.

"You know, he tells her, even if we can't help Harry right now I'm sure we can still find ways to help him in the future."

Hermione looks up, her eyes shining slightly. Ron fights the urge to grimace, choosing to bump her shoulder again instead.

"I know what you can do!" He says with fake cheer, "You should take notes for him. 'specially of homework for the summer, so that he doesn't have to worry about catching up when he wakes up."

He very tactfully ignores Hermione's sniffle when she replies, her voice a bit shaky : "That's right."

"So you should! And I'll... go take care of Hedwige for him! That'll make him happy, right?"

The girl nods then turns away for a second, wiping her eyes. She then looks back at the castle. Pupils are starting to filter back into the corridors, leaving the lake and its grassy hills behind. School is about to start back up and they have a double History of Magic lesson in front of them. Hermione straightens her robes and dusts her pants, trying to hide the obvious green marks and Ron watches her in silence. He's not going to class this afternoon. Doesn't feel like it's right for him to, or like it would help him at all. He's probably going to get detention for it but, as Hermione just said, in the end he might actually want that to happen.

He's missing his mate.

He walks with Hermione to the castle but, as they're about to enter, he steps back. He knows that she can tell he's lying when he pretends that he needs to swing by the dorms before class but she's trying to be as tactful with him as he's been with her. They're still not quite friends but they understand each other better. And both of them know about the other's sadness. They're worried for Harry. They're afraid. And all they can do is keep it together until everything gets back to normal and the only worry they have is not being able to see their friend as much during the summer.

He quickly forgets about the owl as he walks back along the castle, making sure to keep out of view of any students and teachers that may be entering the classrooms. There, he reaches it.

The Hospital Wing.

How mad Hermione will be when she learns that he came back here without her. But really, there's no other place he would rather be. It's partially his fault if Harry's lying there right now. Had he been a bit better, a bit smarter, a bit more focused during the chess game, he might have made it out unscathed. And then, Harry wouldn't have had to go through the fire alone. He would have made him split the potion, he would have gone with him. With Ron by his side, surely Harry wouldn't have been this injured, surely he would be awake by now.

He takes out his wand, mentally apologizing to his bookworm friend as he starts moving his wrist. Making sure to enunciante properly he casts : " _Wingardium Leviosa_ "

He feels his feet rise up from the ground. Slowly, at first, then faster and faster. Surprised by the momentum, he lowers his arms, the movement making him roll over in the air. Now upside down, with his hair touching the ground and his feet facing the sky, he watches as his bag slowly slides from his shoulder and hits the grass, rolling down the hill.

"Bloody... Merlin!" He hisses, flicking his wand wrist to try and adjust his position. He knew this was a terrible idea, he just wishes this realisation hadn't come just as he was casting the spell.

He manages to somewhat straighten himself up but the brutal wand movements shake him from left to right, leaving him disoriented enough that he drops his wand. Almost immediately, the spell breaks, sending him tumbling straight to the ground. He lays there, with his forehead on the cold grass for what feels like a very long time before something makes him jump violently.

The sound of someone clearing their throat.

Ron straightens his head immediately, eyes round like an owl's as his gaze crosses the one of the person he probably wanted the least to see him in this position.

"Pr-professor McGonagall!" he stutters, standing up immediately and sending a desperate look towars his back, which was still pursuing its inevitable descent down the hill. His last Transfiguration homework is in it. He's only written about a fourth of it but still, he'll mourn it.

"Mr. Weasley." The professor replies, her arms crossed in front of her chest, a severe look on her face. He can hear the disapproval in her voice and instantly knows that she has been witness to his pathetic attempt at levitating himself up to the window. His heart is pounding in his chest as he knows that he's either about to face the longest detention of his life or break the record for most points lost in ten minutes or less. Both things that will undoubtedly make his mother very, _very_ angry at him.

Well, might as well make the best of it.

"PleaseprofessorcanIgetdetentioninthehospitalwing?"

Professor McGonagall frowns down at him : "Pardon?"

"Please." He tries again, slower this time. "For my detention. Can it be in the Hospital Wing?"

His Transfiguration teacher is silent from much longer than he thought she would be, her arms dropping to her sides. When she replies, it's without the bite he was expecting from her, in the tone she usually saves for Hermione or some Ravenclaw equivalent of the girl.

"Of course, Mr. Weasley." She takes a step back, waves her wand in the direction of Ron's bag and, without him hearing her say one word, he watches as his bag starts floating back towards him. It seems like a lot of older wizards can cast silent spells. Maybe they just avoid doing it around the students. Doesn't make much sense but, really, teachers rarely do. "Follow me please", Mc Gonagall speaks again, once he's grabbed his school supplies.

Not tempting his luck, the boy nods and starts walking after her. He doesn't know if he's especially lucky today or if she's just in a forgiving mood but he isn't going to be picky about it. At least he gets to stay by his friend's side now. He follows the adult in silence to the Hospital Wing, where Mrs Pomfrey welcomes them. 

As they get closer and as Ron starts to make out more and more of the nurse's sour expression, he suddenly remembers that he cast a spell at her not twenty minutes ago. He slowly walked up to her, head down, ashamed to have to face his innocent victim and doesn't protest when the nurse lightly thumps his head with her note board.

"Hello again, Mr. Weasley." She says, voice as cold as ice. "I hope you like scrubbing bed pans."

Ron doesn't but, by now, he knows there's no turning back. He was the one who wanted this after all. Professor McGonagall watches him go in silence, and he now understands why she so readily let him walk into the Hospital Wing. The dastardly cat knew that he was going straight into a trap and she was more than happy to lead him right to it!

Well, even if he has to scrub bedpans, at least, he's around his friend.


	2. Ron, meet Detention (again)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> ron is bored and not very hardworking

This is, by far, the worst idea Ron has ever had.

For what seems like the thousandth time in the past few hours, his arms go up and down, fingers digging into the sopping wet rag Mrs Pomfrey shoved into his hands earlier, when he sheepishly attempted to apologize for casting a spell at her. The look in her eyes had been enough for him to shut his big mouth immediately, and he hurriedly scampered to the corner of the Hospital Ward wing she assigned him.

Up and down.

Up and down.

Not a speck of dust left on the walls, with all of his feriocious scrubbing, nor on the foor. He'll probably be able to move on from this spot to the next soon.

Up and down.

Up and down.

As stealthily as he can, Ron tries to spot the nurse from where he's standing. There's a surprisingly great deal of students coming in and out of the infirmary, and she's been bouncing between them and tending to the pupils laying down in the beds for a while. Like most adults in the school, she has to have an office somewhere, but he hasn't been able to spot her going into it yet. Worse yet, her favorite patient to visit is the only one Ron cares about. Whether it be to adjust the sheets of his bed so that they're perfectly pulled over his chest or to rearange the numerous boxes of chocolates and candies on his bedside table, she always comes back to Harry.

Up and down.

Up and down.

A quick look over his work. No evident stain or mark left, no suspicious liquid or, _worse_ , spider-web. Good enough.

Dropping the rag back into the bucket full of water he's also been given, Ron gets ready to move over closer to where his friend is sleeping. He knows how Mrs Pomfrey is, with visitors, but he's already done most of the walls on the other side of the Hospital Wing, so there's no way she'll blame him for switching areas.

Really, he tells himself again, definitely not one of his finest ideas. He bends over and drags the large bucket, centimeter by centimeter, over to the next portion of the wall he's decided to scrub. It's closer to Harry, for certain, but it's not close enough to be completely obvious. He may not be the best at studying, but he's not stupid. He knows he'll immediately get assigned to cleaning the bedpans if Mrs Pomfrey starts suspecting that he's only here to look over his best mate.

Some water spills over on his shoes and he mutters a curse under his breath. Malfoy better not hear anything about his detention or the slimy weasel is probably going to try and fake an injury just to get the opportunity to laugh at him. What an arse.

After some difficulties, he manages to get settled two beds away from Harry. He doesn't dare look over at his friend's face quite yet, wanting to appear as innocent as he can, so he gets started on scrubbing.

Up and down.

A quick glance won't hurt, right?

Up and down.

What will Mrs Pomfrey do, if she catches him staring at Harry? The worst she can do, obviously, is throwing him out but, with how bitter she looked, after he cast the Lumos at her, he doesn't think it will happen. He does feel a bit bad about it, he would of course feel even worse had she allowed him to see his mate more in the first place. If they had been allowed to stay longer, Hermione wouldn't have had to climb the window! The unfairness of it all makes him clench his fingers into a fist. Water from the rag starts dripping down his forearm and he relaxes his hand. It's the summer, sure, but he doesn't want to stain his robes. They don't know yet if they'll be able to get a first year girl fit for Ginny, so she may have to use his.

And if she does get her own robes, then he'll only be a little bit jealous. It's not his fault she's the only girl, he's always told himself. Sure, it's a bit sad to know that he'll always be getting the scraps left after his brothers because all the new clothes money goes into them growing taller and his sister's not having any available girl clothes from older siblings, but there's nothing he can do about it now, can he?

He distantly remembers at the beginning of the year, seeing all the coings Harry carried around with him. Before that time, he hadn't seen the glint of a galleon in almost a year. How different it must be, he thinks, to have this much money that you can just afford to spend it on candies. His own personal wealth is a stash of three Sickles and eight Knuts, that he has saved ever since his sixth birthday and everytime he's been able to get his hand on money ever since, he wants to buy a broom with it one day. His own broom. Not Dad's. Not Charlie's. His own.

Ron has never had something that is truly _his_ , something that hasn't been in older hands before being passed down to him. Even his pet is from his older brother! Everything in Harry's closet and chest screams new. He doesn't know what that feels like.

He's been staring at the water in the bucket for a bit too long, he realises, suddenly snapping back to awareness. He got caught in a train of thoughts again. This is why he'll never be a good student, he bitterly tells himself. Can't be a Hermione or a Percy if you can't keep from wandering into your thoughts every ten seconds. And then getting lost in them.

At least, he can beat them at chess. Ha.

Focus Ronald.

Focus.

Scrubbing the wall.

Up and down, he goes again.

A commotion near the entrance of the Hospital Wing drags his attention away from his detention once again, especially once he recognises who is involved in it. With eyes as wide as saucers, he watches as a large group of children and teenagers spills into the room, crowding around a central figure, who's walking with a very noticeable limp and a defeated slump in his shoulders. Their robes are red and yellow, like fire, and, from the somber looks on their face, he already knows what happened to them.

Merlin's Beard, they were this close to winning the Cup! Those two times Harry caught the Snitch... wasted.

Ron drops his rag into the bucket, too distracted to pretend like he's not interested in what's happening. He sees Fred and George, whispering to each other behind the limping teen, and all of their teammates around them too, he doesn't remember all of their names but he does remember watching them fly across the Quidditch field, fast as the wind. He can't wait to join them. He doesn't have a broom of his own, but once he saves enough money and he buys it... then, finally, he'll be able to join. Even if he has to get it second-hand like the twins. He'll get it.

Sometimes, he wonders why no teacher has ever sent him a broom in the mail like Harry got but, deep down, he knows that it's because, unlike his friend, Ron Weasley is nothing special. He's pretty decent at Quidditch, but he's no genius, and he's for sure not the Saviour of the Wizarding world. Nobody cares about him enough to give him a free broom, nobody with money at least.

Over at the entrance of the infirmary, Mrs Pomfrey is hurrying over to the players' side, her wand already in her hand. He doesn't remember her taking her out of her pocket, but then he wasn't really paying attention to her anyways. He's more concerned being torn over whether he wants to spy on the Quidditch team or use the disruption they caused to quickly go to Harry's side.

Eventually, his friendship with the other boy wins over his curiousity and he, as slowly and quietly as he can, gets down to the ground and crawls under the two empty beds that separate him from his best mate's bedside. The teachers tried, but they can't keep him away from his best friend!

Maybe it'll keep Hermione from killing him, too, if he tells her he got to see Harry from up close and check up on him. With this thought in mind, he crouches up, just enough to peak his head over the edge of the bed and look at the unconscious face of his first and best partner in crime. It's a bit weird, looking at him when he's asleep, but he's worried enough to move past the unease.

Harry's face is pale, almost as pale as it was at the beginning of the year, when he still looked all thin and sickly. Ron has gotten used to his mate being healthier now, and seeing him like this makes him want to punch someone, anyone. But there's nobody to punch, nobody to curse at. Just his best mate, laying on the bed, skin whiter than the sheets on his chest. Very slowly, hesitantly, Ron reaches a hand up and puts it on Harry's shoulder. He pats it awkwardly.

"I'm here, Harry." He whispers, inching closer to the other boy so that he can, hopefully, hear him better, even if he's still not awake. "Hermione was here earlier too. We're missing you so get better soon, alright?"

He pats the sleeping boy's shoulder once again and, not wanting to try his luck, he crawls back to his bucket. To his great horror, as he starts on making his way under one of the two beds, he spots a pair of shoes on the other side, right next to his abandonned rag. A wave of icey fear rushes into his veins and he speeds up as best as he can. If it is an adult, it's probably better not to keep them waiting.

Before he can even peak out from under the last bed, he feels a hand reach up and touch the top of his head.

"Ronnykins!" A delighted voice sounds.

Just as fear filled it before, his heart is overcome with relief when he recognises the voice of his brother. Fred pats him condescendingly, just like he loves to, and he tries his best to ignore it as he stands up and rubs dust off of his pants and shirt. Fred isn't deterred, though, and he soon has his older brother's smiling face filling up most of his vision as the teen bends down to look into his eyes. There's a mischevious light in them, as always. 

"Getting into detention again, Ronnykins?" The older boy coos, lips stretched into a smile. "I'll be sure to tell Percy he lost our bet!"

"Stop with that bet." Ron grumbles at him, keeping his voice low. "As if _Percy_ would bet on anything."

"Oh you have no idea. He's so innocent. He actually thought you'd be a straight-O student. Just like him."

"And like Bill." Ron sighs.

"And like Bill." Fred nods.

There's only really two ways it goes in the Weasley family regarding school : the Bill way, or the Charlie way. As long as they're happy after school, their Dad told them, he doesn't care about which one they end up following but everyone in the family who isn't Bill or Percy can always feel the disappointment in their parents when they bring home bad results. Thankfully, none of them lack brains, so even if they're not much for school or studying, every follower of the Charlie way has at least been able to succesfully pass each end of the year exam.

Ron hopes he won't be the one to break that good record. But he thinks he did alright all things considered. He isn't actually the worst when it comes to practical exams. He's just very, very bad at homework.

"We could all tell you'd be one of us," Fred smiles. Then, oddly, he notes : "Mrs Pomfrey likes you."

"What? I cast a Lumos at her! She hates me."

His brother's eyes go wide and he hears him whistle, impressed. Disturbingly excited at the idea, the older gryffindor whispers hurriedly : "You cast a spell on the _school nurse_ ?"

If even one of the twins is impressed by the scale of his antics, then he's definitely firmly set into the Charlie path. He doesn't know if Percy really did bet against it, he can't really see his strictest sibling get down to the twins' level, but then Quirrell was the last person he expected to host You-Know-Who in him so that's not the most surprising thing that has happened in his first year.

"I'm so proud of you Ron," Fred mutters, eyes shining with fake tears and barely disguised glee, "They grow so fast. Soon you'll be Stupefying Flinch like all of us young delinquents."

"Stupe-"

He doesn't have time to finish his question, as his sibling interrupts him by putting his index finger on Ron's mouth, effectively shutting him up. He has half a mind to bite said finger off but, wisely, the Beater steps away before he can. They have wrestled enough as children to know how dangerous it is to leave any limbs or exposed skin in biting distance of an upset brother. Or sister.

"Now, my rebellious little brother, I must retreat to my captain's side." Fred bows dramatically, turning on his heels towards the entrance. Without thinking, Ron lunges forward and grabs his shoulder, stopping him from leaving.

The teen raises an eyebrow.

"Did you guys lose?" Ron asks, after a short silence. He feels like slapping himself as soon as the words leave his mouth, because he already knew the answer but, to his credit, Fred doesn't appear particularly angry. Instead of getting mad at him, he simply shrugs and shakes his head no. 

"Without our star Seeker, it was a bit hard to." The boy admits. "But at least it wasn't against Slytherin."

Fred's voice is very calm, almost mocking when he speaks but, as he walks back towards the entrance, Ron notices that his brother's shoulders are tense, and his fists are clenched. He understands. He's not in the team but it still stings a lot, losing like this, so close to the Quidditch cup too.

Maybe if he had done a better job on that chess game and had been there to protect Harry... then with their Seeker, maybe then they could have won. But he wasn't good enough. And even now, there's nothing he can do to help his friend. Nothing except stay close and sneak in words of encouragement when he can afford to. He wishes he could do more, wishes he had done more before, but he's useless now. He's starting to learn that, once you fail at something, there's no real way to fix it completely, you just have to live with its consequences.

He isn't sure how he he feels at this thought. Angry, mainly. At himself, and at everyone who put them in this situation, who wasn't there to protect Harry. At the teachers who didnt listen and, especially, at the Headmaster who left when he should have been there to help them.

"When I have my broom..." he mutters.

... Then he'll be able to help the team. Then he'll be useful. Once he has enough money to buy his broom, he'll be able to do it.

He just wants to be helpful, in any way that he can.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i actually really like writing ron.... hes a lot different from the other characters i usually use for pov. but then me likey weasleys 
> 
> -v-


	3. more of detention time for ronald

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> title says it all

Today is the second day of his detention and, already, Ron feels like sneaking out of it. Unfortunately, without Harry's invisibility cloak, there's probably no chance he can get past the watchful eyes of Mrs Pomfrey... or silently get past the creaky doors. Or run down the corridors without being spotted by a wandering teacher or, worse by _Filch_. Anything but him. At least with the Hospital Wing, he's right next to his best friend, a privilege he'll no doubt lose in the hands of that man.

Careful not to fall over, Ron leans further to the left, extending his arm so he can get as much of the window clean as possible. He tried asking the nurse if he could use the detention as spell practice, hoping to be allowed to cast the levitation spell, but was sharply denied. There's just no way out of it, he just has to do this manually, using a rickety old ladder to be able to do his job. It's a real chore, dragging it from window to window but it really beats the bedpans so he's not bitter about it. _Too_ bitter, at least.

The thing is, while cleaning windows, he's now able to see all the other students using the last few hours of daytimes to sunbathe and swim in the lake. From the corner of his eyes, he can even spot colorful flashes in the sky, students flying, playing Quidditch, racing each other. He doesn't have a broom yet but he knows his brothers would allow him to borrow theirs for a couple dozen minutes, with how they've taken a liking to him lately. They absolutely love Charlie, targetting him a lot less in their pranks, and even if they still like making fun of Ron himself a lot, there's now a sense of companionship, all three of them knowing they'll always end up disappointing their parents in school. They don't really talk about it, of course, but it's the kind of stuff they don't really need to talk about to know, just like the fact that the three of them want to get Harry in their home for the summer.

Harry.

He glances at his friend, still unconscious in bed. It's been almost three days now, will be tomorrow, at least, and the boy still hasn't opened his eyes. He's worried about him, Hermione is too. They do talk about it. They've been talking a lot more lately, about Harry, about what happened a few days ago. About other stuff too, wizard stuff. Ron has never thought about it but with her, he's discovering that muggle-born wizards don't really know a lot about magical history or... well pretty much anything. So he's trying to help her... and also ask a few questions about Muggle stuff he could talk about to his father.

"When he learns my friend is a Muggle-born, he'll be so happy." He remembers telling her, to which she answered by a surprised look and an even more surprised : "So we're friends now?"

They had never told each other straight up before this moment. It had always been an understanding that Ron likes hanging with Harry and Hermione... likes hanging with Harry too. Sure, it means that they're together a lot, and that they know each other pretty well and everything... but until then, it had never been made clear that they are, in fact, friends.

Before coming to Hogwarts, Ron never expected that one of his first two friends would not only be a Muggle-born but a girl too! The other Gryffindor boys are all pretty fun to talk to and joke around with but, really, there's nothing like braving danger with someone to really get to know her. After some time with Hermione, he's starting to think that, maybe, girls aren't that bad or different. Just like Ginny, she's pretty fun to spend time with, she actually gives him a challenge at chess.

Score still is 5-21, in his favour, of course, but that's better than what most people can manage. Harry's for example is 0-43. He's been getting the other boy to play with him a lot to try and teach him the ways of wizards chess but it doesn't appear to be working very well... he's not going to give up though.

Through the now perfectly clean glass of the window, he can see members of the Gryffindor Quidditch team diving above the lake, stopping just before they touch it and then fly away, a couple seconds too fast for the Squid to catch them. Other students, all from other Houses, are looking at them from a safe distance, further up in the sky. He can't wait to be able to join them and do this too. He's been practicing hard at it, back home, when his brothers let him use their brooms, he knows he's very close to being able to pull it off everytime.

And even if he can't perfectly do it yet when he enters the team, it'll just make it more fun. What's the worse that can happen? A bit of water?

"Mr Weasley." A voice snaps him out of his daydream, throwing him off so bad he almost falls off the ladder. He does, however, drops today's brand new rag. It doesn't hit the ground, levitating, instead, right above it, stopped by a silent spell.

"Mrs. Pomfrey." He replies, trying to look as serious as he can about his cleaning job that he has just been seen completely ignoring in favour of watching other students play around. He doesn't think he's very convincing.

"Please get down from here. I will be back shortly."

It takes all that he has not to perk up at this. She's leaving the infirmary? After so many hours waiting, she's finally giving him the opportunity to go see his friend longer. Of course, she can't know about his plans, he has to act calm, act like-

"You can sit by Mr. Potter's bedside while you wait for me to return." The nurse adds sharply, looking up at him with an expression he can't quite figure out on her face.

Her words take a few seconds to register but, once they do, he can't stop himself from smiling at her.

"Really?"

"Please be sure _not_ to disturb him. No talking, no touching, or you can forget about your visitation privileges."

He nods immediately, already on his way towards Harry's bed. He grabs a chair on the way there and drags it as close as he can get it to his friend. Plopping down on it, he distanly registers the head nurse leaving the Hospital Wing. After one full minute of keeping quiet and still, he finds himself start to fidget. He's not going to lose his privileges, though. He has to stay calm. No disturbing Harry.

No disturbing.

One more minute drags on, even slower than the previous one and, by the end of it, he can't stop his left leg from bouncing wildly, and he's started fidgetting with his robes' collar. Mrs Pomfrey must be gone by now, right? He can start talking and moving again, now that she's away, for sure.

After checking one last time that he has, indeed, been left alone in the large room, he turns to Harry. The boy looks a bit better than the last time he got to see him from up close. Looks a lot less white a lot more pink, he thinks it's probably a good sign that he's getting better. Hermione is going to be happy about it.

He finds himself looking at his friend's eyes, hoping that they could open. He's getting better, right? This means he'll be awake soon. This has to be the longest nap he's ever taken! He has to wake up already, they have to go flying above the lake together, before he has to get back to his muggle family. Maybe they could even borrow someone's camera and take a last picture to take back home for the holidays. Harry has told him his family isn't the nicest, and Ron doesn't like how thin the boy was when he started school. His mom has always made sure to feed them enough that they have never, ever, not even during their harshest financial times, looked so sickly as his mate did at that time. He's kind of mad at the other boy's family because of it. They should be giving him enough food.

He doesn't wan't Harry to go back there for the holidays.

He did ask his mum and dad about it, through letters. They replied by telling him they'd consider it that, since Charlie might come back home, they didn't know if they'd be able to make room for his friend. Ron knows very well what it truly means, that they're not sure they can feed every mouth, if one more is added. He replied to this letter with one pointing out how Harry doesn't really it that much. He knows it won't work, though, nobody's allowed to skip meals in his mum's house.

He looks over at the candy boxes and chocolate boxes. There's a lot of them, probably too much for the small boy to eat before they have to go back to their homes. He thinks about grabbing something from the pile but doesn't let that idea linger. He isn't a thief. If he wants candies, he can wait until mum makes them during the summer, for his siblings birthday. Plus, knowing Harry, he's probably going to share this sugar hoard with the other first year boys. That's what they did, after Christmas, that's what they always do.

A lot of people left cards, he notices. A lot of random students from different years, even the Prefects! He recognises Percy's handwriting, scrawled on the side of a bouquet of shimmering flowers, right next to the ones of his fellow five year prefects. He thinks he even sees Flitwick's name over there. Even teachers are sending well wishes to Harry. A lot of people care about him, it makes him happy.

It also makes him feel a bit insecure.

He completely forgot about sending a note! Let alone a gift!

He quickly runs to his bag, left alone at the entrance of the Hospital Wing, when he was given his tasks for the afternoon. Digging into it, he takes out bits of parchment, a slightly dented quill and a small bottle of ink. Sticking his tongue out, trying to focus on not staining his trousers, or the floor, he very careful writes down his name, followed by a : ' _For Harry_ '. Alright. He's made a card.

Now, what is he going to give his friend?

He looks back inside his tattered, raggedy old bag. There's nothing much of value in there only his school stuff, his portable wizard's chess set, and a few pieces of bread he's stuffed in there at the end of his lunch, if he ever got hungry during the afternoon. No food will be wasted when Ronald Weasley is here.

His eyes stop on every item, conflicted. Parchment. Ink. Quills. Chess set. Bread. Nothing fitting for a gift, nothing that-

Hovering over his bag, his hand freezes. He looks down, an idea forming in his mind.

Without a second of hesitation, Ron grabs his chess set, opens it up and takes out a knight. Still sleeping, only to be awakened when placed upon the board, the small figure does not utter a sound as he takes it up to his friend's bed side. On his note, he scrawls in small letters : ' _So you can remember us this summer. Next time I won't get knocked down._ ' A few blots of ink fall down from the cracked tip of the quill and drip down on the piece of parchment. So much for leaving a clean note behind ... well, at least he tried.

He's about to get back to his chair when, with an ominous creaking sound, the doors of the Hospital Wing open, letting in a group of students. He recognises them immediately, they're first year gryffindors, just like him. Dean is there, so are Seamus and Neville. The last two are looking quite worried, supporting the first as he hops forwards, his right foot above the ground, ankle unnaturally swollen and already starting to turn blue.

Having grown up in of a family of mostly outdoors loving children, Ron can quickly recognise a sprain when he sees one. He knows his mum would be able to fix it, and Mrs Pomfrey too no doubt, but the only thing he can remember about it is to keep the injured limb still ad to try and put cold things on it. Where is he going to find anything cold in Hogwarts, at the beginning of summer.

"Oh Ron," Seamus greets him, "Hey."

He greets him back, grimacing slightly when his gaze catches Neville's. They still haven't really talkes about what happened a few days ago and he really hopes the other boy isn't too mad at them for it. The silence drags on for a bit before he snaps out of his awkwardness induced haze and explains : 

"Mrs Pomfrey isn't here right now." Looking around as he speaks, he notices an empty bed, only a couple of meters away and points at it. "You should go there to wait for her. Try to put your foot kinda up. Don't move it too much though."

After helping the boys get Dean settled, he goes to retrieve his chair, on which he piles up a couple of stray pillows so that the injured gryffindor can settle his ankle on it. It's all coming naturally to him, as he's seen his mother do it a good dozen time over his childhood, sometimes with him being the one hurt! He's always liked playing rough with his older brothers, it often turns out poorly for him, though, as the twins have a tendency to gang up on the others, and Charlie is by far the fittest of them all.

Raising dragons must be good for building muscles. Must be scary, though. Norbert wasn't that scary of a dragon, despite the fire, so maybe not that terrifying after all. Plus, all the Weasleys belong in the House of the brave, even Ginny, who hasn't been sorted yet. As a Weasley, she'll be a lion, like the rest of them.

They only have to wait a few minutes for the head nurse to come back, a time mostly spent explaining how Dean attempted to dive into the lake with one of the school's brooms but overshot and slammed right into the water. "He's probably going to get a huge detention for what happened to the broom," Seamus says, with a wide grin. "As long as you don't come into the infirmary," Ron smirks back, "this is my territory."

Dean is one of the only gryffindors who accepts to play with him on a regular basis. They're at 15-0 in Ron's favour but it doesn't stop the other lion from trying over and over again in order to defeat him. He's nowhere near that point, of course. So far, only Hermione has managed to reliably defeat him in the first years. Charlie and his mum are much more impressive when it comes to chess skill than they are.

Once she's back, Mrs Pomfrey makes a beeline for the newly occupied bed, shooing all three of them away. They hang back a bit, watching as she snaps her wand out of her sleeve. Adults often don't keep them in their pockets, his mum always told him not to, once he inherited his, especially when they go into town. In total silence, they look as the head nurse flicks her wand in small movements so fast and complex that Ron can't quite keep up with it. Almost immediately, Dean's ankle starts to straighten slightly, the blue and red bruising blending away into the skin, before disappearing completely. In less than half a minute, the injury is completely gone, as if it has never been there in the first place.

As he watches Dean hop onto the floor and walk around, face devoid of any pain, he feels something in his heart twinge. This spell. If he had been able to use spells like this, after he got knocked down during the chess game, he'd have been able to get back on his feet. He'd have been able to help Harry.

Guilt eats at his mind and he fidgets uncomfortably. Hermione went on with Harry, she helped him, she got Dumbledore to save them, eventually. He just got knocked out, unable to do anything but lay there, on the side of the chessboard, powerless.

He was the one who saved Harry, when the troll attacked, he knows he is able of great things, when under pressure. He knows it. He should have been there.

He wasn't.

He's quickly sent back to his Common Room, after this, and told not to misbehave again. Taking it as meaning that his detention is over, he doesn't get his loyalty to Harry win over his common sense, this time, and promptly obeys before getting any punishment. Getting to see his mate was a good reward but, all things considered, he probably did not have to get sent into detention to achieve it.

He's always been bad at thinking through stuff like that. Strategy, he can handle but, as soon as feelings get involved, he makes bad decisions. This is what got him in the chess game, this is what he should have done better. He wanted to protect his friend, even at the cost of sacrificying himself. There probably was another way to victory but he was blinded by his feelings. It's not his faults, though, it's just so hard to control them sometimes.

Hermione walks up to him as soon as he steps into the Common Room, greeting him with a quick "So? How is he?" before he can even say hello. He stops and look at her for a few seconds, eyebrows raised, before shrugging and answering :

"He looks like he's doing better."

The girl's eyes light up with excitement, she beams at him : "Did he wake up, then?"

Ron shakes his head, stepping towards the dorms, hands in his pockets. Before he can get far, however, Hermione steps in front of him, arms crossed in front of her chest. He rolls his eyes at her.

"What now?"

"Ron," she sighs, "You need to do your homework."

"What? The year is almost over, come on!"

He tries to not let it show that he completely forgot the concept of homework existed but, going by the look on her face, she doesn't appear to be particularly convinced. Grumbling about it all the way, he lets her drag him to a remote table, next to one of the tower's windows, where she takes out a large scroll of parchment, filled to the brim with notes and almost unreadable scribbles. Hermione's handwriting is very bad, but Ron has never been stupid enough to comment on it. He may not have much tact but he knows, thanks to his dad, that most muggles don't tend to use quills. Making fun of someone for being muggle-born is a Slytherin thing to do, and he's no snake.

"Are you letting me copy it?" He asks, hopeful.

His hopes are quickly crushed as she shakes her head, glaring at him as she does so.

"You can read over my notes but that's it." She snaps, making him sigh with relief.

"Wait." He suddenly realises, as the large scroll is pushed towards him. "Those are your _notes_?"

She sniffs, arms back in front of her chest, defensive. "What's wrong about them?"

"Looks more like an essay to me." He says. "You and Percy would get along well."

The comparison seems to make her happy, for some reason. "Really?" She asks, eyes shining slightly. She is probably one of if not the only person in Great Britain to be able to take that as a compliment, but he's not very surprised by it. She _is_ a bookworm know-it-all, just like his older brother. They'd probably get along more than great, they could have study sessions together, gossip about homework.

He can't help but snicker at this thought, which makes Hermione happy face turn into a suspicious frown. "What?" She asks. "Your brother is a _Prefect_ , Ron. Clearly he's doing something right."

The look in her eyes when she says the word prefect brings a sudden awareness to the boy. It seems obvious now that he's realised it but he didn't really think about it before. Hermione _wants_ to become a Prefect. It's one of her goals. This is why she's so serious about studying, this is why she's so set on following the rules. She's like Percy and Bill in that way, she has a drive to get responsibilities. He's never really been like that. Sure, it would be nice to become a prefect, especially with the fact that all of his older brothers were awarded a present when they got the position (or the Quidditch captain one for Charlie) but it doesn't really make him want to work harder. Not like Hermione, not like Percy.

Prefect is a nice title but it's not worth that much effort. He'd rather put it towards something he really cares about, something like Quidditch... or like his friends.

He needs to get better at chess, needs to get better at magic. If only he had been stronger, he would have been able to come with his two best friends, to face the evil professor. That's what he really cares about now, getting more useful. He doesn't need to be a good student to reach that goal. He doesn't need to do homework but...

Hermione will probably never stop harassing him about it if he doesn't do as she asks, though. She takes school so seriously, Harry is much easier to turn to his side, but it's almost impossible to get her to do something other than school work once she's gotten started on it.

Ugh. Serves him well, becoming friends with a bookworm.

Something pokes his forehead and he blinks, watching as a small enchanted paper bird falls from in front of his face to land on the table, spell wearing off. Hermione lowers her wand, still frowning.

"Stop daydreaming and get to work, mister." She tells him, reaching over to retrieve her little paper bird.

After a long sigh and last, regretful glance at the darkening skies, still filled with playful students, Ron complies.

He should never have gotten detention.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> harry waking up soon? -v-


End file.
